


let me see your world

by curiosity



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Thieves and Detectives, F/M, M/M, except this one is. well. muuuch longer, it's the continuation from the other one, more thief au by yours truly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-19 07:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12405783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiosity/pseuds/curiosity
Summary: "Saihara-chan, don’t you think the idea of a phantom thief and a detective having a secret romance would be really fun?"





	let me see your world

**Author's Note:**

> remember when i impulsively wrote that first thief au to indulge myself? yeah. somehow it also led me to write 13k words of this. good job self.
> 
> anyway, this was also an attempt of me rambling my thoughts out - aka try to get better at writing. and it took me like 2 weeks. i wanted to be more serious haha so i figured i should add up to the other fic. but i'm not the type to write chaptered fanfics so - here we are. 13k words. i think at some point it stops making sense but that's how anything i do goes.
> 
> in case you're here without having read the first fic, here you go: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12345504
> 
> first things first, i decided to elaborate a little more from before and basically: this is a modern setting (imagine it being like you see in detective conan/magic kaito). everyone that may show up here is already a bit older to their canon ages, normally the age you'd be in uni; 20-22 or so. there's a couple of references to canon but they're slightly different. there are also no ultimate talents, shuichi goes to uni and is working at an agency he applied to. ouma is still stealing stuff along with shuichi's heart. kaito and maki still don't know what to do about shuichi. yare yare the rest are all details you'll learn about as you read.
> 
> and without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, it's showtime! enjoy!

As it turns out, that really wasn’t their final showdown.

Heist after heist, encounter after encounter, the name Saihara Shuichi became recognized throughout the entire country; no more than the phantom thief’s name itself, but close enough. The rival duo were the sensation of the moment, bringing excitement and expectation the crowd every time both acted on their respective roles. Headlines spoke of the Brilliant Genius Detective versus the Dashing Master Thief of the Century, thus allowing their popularity to raise at an incomprehensive speed.

Being in the center of the spotlight wasn’t something Shuichi was particularly fond of, instead preferring to remain alone with his own presence. He rather enjoyed being either at his room in the comfort of his little flat reading one of the many mystery books and novels found in the shelves, or in his office in the small agency, where the windows show a lovely view of the town, and where his paperwork stacks up. Even the latter was better than... well, everything which happened whilst he was outside or at the university.

People on the streets literally swooned over the young detective; journalists always on the eye for a scoop or two, making questions such as “When will the thief strike again?” and “Have you discovered his identity? Will it ever be revealed?”. Fellow detectives even held a bit of jealousy towards Shuichi and his new-found fame. Which, by all means, he would pass said fame onto any time of the day. He just wanted peace and quiet.

It was all a bit... overwhelming, to say the least.

(And the thief was the last person doing any effort to let Shuichi reach that need for a calm life.)

A sigh escaped him, not even aware he was holding it back for so long. The orange skies and the sunset were what he focused on instead, coming back to his senses. The train rides back home brought a feeling of serenity to him, allowing him to relax momentarily over the thoughts which consumed him. The detective always brought a novel on his bag to read during the ride, and when he didn’t, he would quietly appreciate the sound of the train on its rails, like a lullaby driving him to a state of sleepiness.

His vision switched to the town he was in, appreciating its scenery as the sun went to sleep and the moon rose to her glory. It was a peaceful place for the most part, the criminality rate being lower than in other towns, meaning the majority of the cases dealt by the police and the detective agencies weren’t heavy. Except for, well, the particular hassle known as the phantom thief who gave Shuichi a headache every now and then.

Another sigh, this one less brash. He still recalled back to the events of that evening, the one in the museum, the one where two calling cards had been left for Shuichi alone to read. His memories took him to relive the moment in his mind; the moment where the moon shone at its highest, the moment their hands connected, the moment they danced surrounded by nothing but paintings and stars, the moment his lips met the lips full of lies of the other— He shook his head upon the latter, it wasn’t exactly the right time to daydream about  _that_ out of all things...

_“Mission complete. Guess your heart is mine, Saihara-chan!”_

That childish singsong echoed through his mind. Even now, he wondered about what the thief said then.

(One thing was true; the thief occupied Shuichi’s everlasting thoughts, even when not working on his case. There were so many questions to be answered, so many questions he wanted and needed an answer to. It was fine to feel like this... Right?

There was nothing he could say to deny the fact that something in his heart felt as if it was lacking when he wasn’t chasing after the enigma in white.)

The announcement for the next train stop was what put his concerns to a halt, and Shuichi stood up from his comfortable seat towards the sliding doors. Maybe he was just tired and in needs of rest, staying up until late when he had to study and do researches at the same time was only bearable till a certain point.

Before the train reached the station, something caught his eye — or rather, someone. Just a few meters away from the detective sat a boy no older than him, perhaps a bit younger, even. He wore a white hoodie along with dark jeans, and on his head were matching headphones with a black and white chess pattern. Plums where what came to mind upon seeing the shade of the boy’s hair, and it also had light violet streaks. His eyes were of the same tone, holding a mischievous look in them. He appeared to be drawing on a sketchbook, but Shuichi could only see bright crayon colours from afar, not being able to make anything out of the illustration.

The boy’s attention dropped from his artwork and landed his eyes on the detective, purple locking in on grey. For brief seconds, it felt like they were the only people in that train, in the world; and for Shuichi alone, a grin was flashed by the other.

The train stopped and he stepped out of it, walking back home.

Shuichi couldn’t help but wonder where he had seen the boy before.

-

“You...”

“...what.”

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say Kaito was on the verge of bursting out laughing, potentially breaking the quietness present in the coffee shop, and Maki entered a state of heavy questioning upon hearing from Shuichi what had happened a week prior to today. And with that, a week without the thief’s antics to bother the young detective, too.

(Not implying his own thoughts didn’t tire him as much as the thief himself would.)

Kaito couldn’t hold back his need to joke regarding what he had just heard, letting a loud snort come out. “You know, part of me was being serious back then,” he said, finger pointing at Shuichi’s face, which was graced by a bright shade of crimson. “But I was mostly joking! For real? He really went and used  _that_  line?!” Shuichi was certain a miracle was happening right before him for Kaito not to let his coffee slip from its cup, as he kept shaking uncontrollably, people already eyeing their table.

“And you... You...” Even Maki’s cheeks lit up at the confession, glancing at Shuichi with a serious expression. No doubt she was constructing the scenario in her imagination... Maki was not one to lose her composure so often, so this could only imply she was at a loss of words. She couldn’t even bring herself to finish the phrase, only waiting for the boy across the table to quietly nod. 

“Whoa,” Kaito interrupted the silence between them. “You actually got kiss—” Before he could finish, Shuichi quickly bent over the table to cover Kaito’s mouth to avoid precious information the rest of the world did not need to be aware of from slipping away. This only earned them more glares from everyone at the coffee shop with them then, even the waitresses there seemed to be eyeing them. The three of them were already regular customers in the local, considering it was a spot close to the university they attended to, but that did not imply they could simply do whatever they wished to.

“M-Momota-kun! Not so loud!” The detective’s mental sanity kept draining slowly, second guessing his position in life. Sure, a worldwide master criminal had indeed kissed him and proudly stated to have “stolen his heart”, was it really all that concerning?

(It was. Shuichi had always been a terrible liar, especially when it came to himself.)

“L-Let’s just put that aside... Alright?” He waved his hand as if to beg to move on from the current topic of conversation. Really, it was his own fault for bringing it up here out of all places they could meet. Maki didn’t seem convinced in the matter.

“Saihara,” She began speaking, both males turning their attention to her. “Are you sure you don’t like him?”

Kaito nodded in agreement, following Maki’s logic. "Harumaki has a point, bro. It’d make sense if you did. After all, you’ve been chasing after the guy for months.”

Could Shuichi fully admit to it as being some sort of ‘I like  _like_  you’ emotion, though? It would be strange, to say the least, considering the circumstances. Him being a detective in pursuit of nothing but truth and justice, and the other being a thief who did... Well, what exactly did the thief do, other than put on a show as he simply played around by stealing whatever pleased him, paying no mind to his actions? The thief was the ultimate mystery in Shuichi’s eyes, a mystery he would not rest until he had solved and unraveled the truth beneath childish laughs, harmless intentions and a mask of never-ending lies.

A sigh. He had been sighing a lot recently, he figured. “I don’t know,” it was a simple answer, but it would have to do for the time being, as confused as he was. “I do know I want to catch him, and know about him. I want to ask him so many things... Why did he choose me? I wonder if he would do the same if it was another person.”

(For some reason, his heart tightened at the thought of the thief playing their game of cat-and-mouse with someone else. It hurt, it genuinely did, and it was so confusing and beyond rationality. Did their games really become so unique to them to the point where Shuichi considered them  _important_?)

The detective fell silent, his eyes landing on his cup of cream coffee, done so delicately and sweetly by one of the waitresses, which he had yet to finish. The future-to-be astronomer and future-to-be teacher shared a glance, quietly nodding to each other, then turning to Shuichi.

“Look man,” Kaito put his hand on Shuichi’s shoulder to comfort him, gaining the attention of the other. “We’ll always have your back, promise. That’s what a hero does for his sidekick! So get out there and do your best.” He looked at Maki afterwards, to see a reassuring expression on her as well.

A gentle smile came to grace his face. “Thanks, Momota-kun, Harukawa-san.”

They spent the rest of their free time chatting in the pleasant comfort of the coffee shop. The trio always had casual chats, asking each other how studies were going, mentioning random banter that occurred in their respective classes with fellow students and even teachers, or even in club activities (to which Maki commented on how the president and captain of the tennis club was the shortest person alive, but a great player nonetheless). It always ended with Kaito teasing Maki somehow, and Maki threatening to end Kaito and his miserable life, and then throwing her matching commitment silver ring away. (”Why did I ever let you put a ring on me?” “You really do love me, Harumaki!” “Shut up...”)

The wind outside rustling the fallen orange leaves, the sun shining up in the blue sky, and the birds making use of their freedom at best when fluttering away... It was all Shuichi needed to lift up his mood and put aside all his struggles for a temporary moment, and he appreciated that he could always count on his friends to be there for him.

In the opposite side of the street to the one they were in, chess-patterned headphones and white hoodie made their way downtown, a smirk painted on the features of the person in question.

-

Two weeks passed, and no signs of the thief. No calling cards, no hints, no nothing.

Of course, just like reporters spread news regarding the thief’s moves right on the spot, they would also spread about his on-going lack of inactivity, assuming he must be laying low for the time being, or preparing his next big move. People who read this would follow their own logic and attempted to figure out the thief on their own. Some even made guesses on which wealthy bastard or valuable artifact would be stolen afterwards. Rumours, nothing but rumours, nothing more than made-up lies.

(Journalists were supposed to share the truth, weren’t they, Shuichi wondered. He came to the conclusion which, in the end, they only cared about the money.)

The detective himself thought about the sudden drop in action by his rival, perhaps a bit too often than what he enjoyed. Where could he be, why wasn’t he going around doing his usual deal, why he suddenly stopped; it was almost like the thief consumed his entire attention.

It was almost like he actually...

... _missed_  him?

He shook his head at the thought. Shuichi could no longer deny he had indeed gotten used to chasing around the criminal, but... missing him? That was... something on another league, wasn’t it? Could he really call this feeling of emptiness surrounding his heart of missing someone?

(A flash of memory sparked, and, for what could be called the twentieth time, he recalled the beautiful evening when their lips had touched. Crimson turned his cheeks, and the detective cursed himself for thinking about it just as often as he questioned about the thief.

Well, this was certainly getting dangerous.)

Usually, the noiselessness present in the university’s library would have brought peace to his mind in the midst of all the research, but it was being proven difficult the more he invested his own emotions. He decided it’d be best to walk back to the train station and with that, go back home. Whenever he didn’t feel like being there, he would find his way to the library, rather enjoying the view of Autumn having its way through the orange leaves falling and the sunset shoving its hues into the sky.

As he walked towards the exit of the library, something came straight to him and all of a sudden, Shuichi found himself fallen on the cold floor. "Ouch...” Looking up to what could have possibly gone against him, he met with violet eyes, plum-coloured hair and a pained expression.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, there are people trying to get to places here without falling on their ass!” The boy put his large headphones down from his head to his neck, eyeing the detective. 

“A-Ah... Uh... Sorry,” Was he really the one who should be apologizing in this situation...? He immediately got up and reached a hand out to help the other from the floor. Shuichi took a moment to catch a glimpse of the boy; short stature, a lot shorter compared Shuichi himself, showing off a colour combination of black and white, like a chessboard and its pieces.

_This boy... He is..._

“...the one from the train,” he let the comment escape him as realization struck him.

“Huh?” Their eyes met again, violet encountering grey. His eyes reminded him of pretty supernovas out there in the limitless universe, awaiting for the moment someone would explore them.

“Ah,” He wasn’t aware he would catch up on that. “I just... remembered I had seen you before. On a train ride. I guess that was you...?”

“Nah, that was probably my twin brother,” a light “huh?” came out from Shuichi, showing clear confusion at this point. Why the random input on a twin brother— “Kidding! That was a  _lie_. You know, people do use trains to go around, so, maybe? It’s so much fun! Walking is so boring!” —Oh.

The more the boy spoke, the more the detective’s eye twitched at whatever the hell he was speaking of. Being at a loss wouldn’t even begin to explain how he felt upon all the blabbering... Just who was this character he had so randomly happened to crash onto...?

“I have no idea who you are, though!” A finger came pointing straight at Shuichi’s face, which caught him off guard and made him step back. The other seemed to have noticed this, grinning at the detective. “Nishishi... Well, I guess I can introduce myself, anyway. I’m Ouma Kokichi.”

“O-Oh... My name is Saihara... Saihara Shuichi,” Trying his best not to mutter and getting caught in the flow, he introduced himself to the boy —  _Ouma-kun_ , he corrected himself. This was, by far, the most peculiar encounter he had ever had with anyone before; certainly it was not every day you would bump into someone on your way out of the library and they would initiate a friendly (if you could put it in those terms) conversation with you after yelling and teasing you. Although, thinking about it, Ouma speaking for five minutes alone was enough to let out the idea that he himself was not what one would fit into the criteria of someone normal.

“Saihara?” Ouma’s expression turned into a puzzled one, then suddenly into an enlightened one, as if he had realised something. “As in, Saihara, that popular detective everyone talks about? Wow, a celebrity!” The comment brought a slight crimson tone to Shuichi’s cheeks; sure, he listened to this kind of observation from countless people, but— “But, aren’t you really just all talk?” Ouma snickered, a naughty expression taking place on his features.

The detective paused for a moment. How could Shuichi answer to that? It hadn’t even been fifteen minutes since they met and Ouma was already assuming things about himself? He admitted he wasn’t as great as many others professionals in this line of work and questioned his own abilities sometimes (really, call it lack of self-esteem, he wished he hadn’t to deal with it either), but, he kept learning each and every passing day, and nevertheless, he took pride on solving mysteries and cases. Besides, he was never one to boast about his accomplishments whatsoever.

Ouma took notice of Shuichi’s silence and decided to interrupt his thoughts. “Geez, you’re really dumb and dull. Did I getcha to overthink?” Another one of those childish laughs escaped him. “That was also all a lie! You shouldn’t believe in everything people tell you!”

For a second, Shuichi considered what he could have done to have met such an odd fellow. This was beyond anything he had ever witnessed... Lie after lie, joke behind joke, it was enough to exhaust him for the rest of the day. Before being able to call out to the other boy, Ouma waved and then sprinted through the hallway.

“Oops, better get going, I’m late already. See ya around, Saihara-chan!”

As soon as Ouma disappeared from his sight, Shuichi let out the biggest sigh he had been holding back, trying to make up whatever just happened in the time span of more or less twenty-three minutes, and walked to the train station.

-

Meeting Ouma Kokichi was possibly the most strange thing fate had ever played on Saihara Shuichi.

He would have assumed that them crashing against each other in the library was a moment he could forget as if had been nothing, and would have moved on with his mundane life doing his monotonous student work and his tiresome detective work like he had always been — except, no, it hadn’t been so simple, considering from then on there would always be a boy whose hair was coloured like dark lavenders by his side, nagging him whenever he could. Lies and pranks had become a routine to Shuichi’s ears, Ouma always finding a way to crawl under his skin and tease him.

Ouma was the first person who, besides his closest friends Kaito and Maki (who he had known for a couple years now, having been in high school together), and another girl from his literature class (Akamatsu Kaede, he recalled her name, a sweet and gentle girl with a positive aura who had once reached out to Shuichi as he was occupied reading a book between class breaks, and they talked for a while, she had mentioned him she also happened to play the piano as a hobby) had approached him. Not in the most natural fashion, but somehow, he had grown used to Ouma’s presence.

One day, Ouma found Shuichi in the library again. He had been going there a lot recently, on the days he could skip going to the office (normally, he would only go there on weekends and days classes weren’t part of his schedule, to drop his paperwork and pick up whatever case he had there to work on), he figured being at home was starting to get a bit too boring to his own desire. Autumn leaves falling and the laughs of fellow students outside were always a more comforting sight to him in the days he worked there.

Photos were scattered all over the table Shuichi was in, and Ouma randomly chose one of them to pick up and investigate himself. All it showed was a hot air balloon painted with a clown’s mask in the night sky; in the photo it looked like nothing more than a white blur but he could immediately tell what it was. Of course, like everyone else and their mother, Ouma was aware of the case involving the one who was called the Master Phantom Thief of the Century. He eyed the other photos the detective had with a fairly thoughtful expression, and came to the conclusion most of them were all portraying the same spot of white. “Hey, Saihara-chan?”

“Yes?” Shuichi replied, not stopping his hand from the scribbles in his notebook nor looking at Ouma, deeply concentrated in his work. It had now been what, three weeks, nearly one month? since the last seen activity from the criminal who inhabited his thoughts. The feeling of emptiness within Shuichi grew and kept growing, not that he would admit so to anyone else, but he surely had to confess it was starting to become concerning was to why the thief hadn’t done anything in such great period of time.

“Why haven’t you caught the guy yet?” There was a tone of genuine curiosity in Ouma’s usual playful voice, which got Shuichi to look up and meet the violet eyes that had been keeping him company for a few weeks now.

“It hasn’t... been that easy,” Shuichi sighed, his eyes trailing through the several photos the police had gotten from the thief in action from the past few months. “He’s really talented at what he does. Every time I think I’m going to catch him, he always manages to slip away.”

Ouma hummed at the explanation, not fully convinced by the detective’s statement. “I bet he’s not even that good. Even I could be a better thief than this guy!” He put down the photo he had picked up next to all the other ones, then turning back to Shuichi with a smirk. “Or, maybe, you’re just a clumsy detective? Nishishi~”

By now, Shuichi knew half of the things Ouma said were to annoy him, and nothing else, so he stopped himself before replying anything (Ouma said nothing to this, either, like normally he would, simply deciding to glance at Shuichi now). His concerns took over him again, though, and the undeniable frustration rose to him. It wasn’t even the kind of annoyance he felt towards himself for thinking he was incapable of unraveling the mysteries behind that clown mask; it was because the thief wasn’t showing signs of wanting to return, and Shuichi acknowledged it was selfish to go down such a train of thought, considering the justice he himself stood for. But, it was impossible for him to not wonder if the thief stopped caring — well, maybe he had forgotten about everything they had been together (the chasing, the dance, the  _kiss_ ), maybe it really had all been nothing more than a game to him, and, wow, when did Shuichi become so painfully aware to the point where he sensed such a intense turmoil on how he felt towards the thief?

“Ah, how boring,” The sound of Ouma’s voice brought Shuichi back to earth. He grabbed his headphones and carefully placed them in their rightful spot on his ears, and then picked up his bag. “Have fun with that thief of yours.”

Every action coming from Ouma could be considered strange, but Shuichi definitely could confirm there was something off the moment he walked away saying nothing else.

-

As if to answer Shuichi’s unconscious pleas, the following day, when the sun was at its highest on a lovely Saturday, he received a call from his detective agency.

Compared to the university he was enrolled in, the agency and his office were a lot closer to his house, more or less twenty-five minutes if you went by foot, and a lot less if you went by bicycle — which was what Shuichi did. He hurried up picking up all the material he needed, case files and whatnot, and ran outside to his bike, his blood rushing and head pounding. There was no reason for them to call him if it wasn’t about  _that_ particular case ( _his_  case, dared he be allowed to call it that), the case that had been in stand by for so long, the case that made Shuichi’s stomach flip over and over again.

When he got to the agency, he jumped off his bike as quick as possible, only to be met by his superior boss and his uncle there.

“Uncle!” It wasn’t every day Shuichi met with his uncle, the one who had allowed him to under the beauty behind solving mysteries, since the other worked in another agency more well-known around town, but, apparently, he was in good terms with his boss. Most detectives were actually wary and competitive of each other, much to Shuichi’s own dislike, who believed everyone should come together if it was necessary, in order to solve greater cases — then again, it wasn’t like there was much going on in town, so, he assumed it made sense to see who would rise amongst the rest. His happiness got the best of him and ran to greet his uncle with the biggest smile on his face. 

“Ah, Shuichi-kun,” His uncle returned him a smile. “I came by to drop information on a case, but...” His attention went to Shuichi’s boss now, who, in return, held a concerned look. Shuichi followed as he glanced at his boss. “Saihara... You might want to give a look at this.”

In his hands was placed a detailed and elegant card with a chess pattern and a clown mask, that star and tear and smile he recognized anywhere, the mask he was all well familiarized with. With it came the usual crimson rose. It was the typical starting move in the plans of the famous trickster of the night. He flipped it around to read its content.

_Twelve young girls and one adult boy; in two days, their smiles will be stolen._

This was what Shuichi had been waiting for an entire month.

(Shuichi was certain the excitement which was clearly visible in his expression probably concerned his boss and uncle, as he could not bring himself to conceal all of it. If they noticed, they did not comment on it, and decided to remain quiet. If they didn’t, well, all the better.)

“Have any idea of what he’s going on about now, Saihara?” His boss said, bringing him back from his thoughts.

Twelve young girls and one adult boy... Considering the usage of the word young, it had to mean... said girls and man were a family? Shuichi tapped as his foot as logic came together, humming along with the sound. It seemed unlikely for such a large crowd to be anything else, right? Nowadays, families were not even of so many members due to the responsibilities that came with raising children; even people complained that having two kids was, on its own, a difficult job to take care of. Therefore, so it had to be someone who had enough conditions to raise thirteen children—

A struck of realisation hit him. He knew the next target of the thief.

“Yes... And we need to make an important phone call right now.”

-

When his eyes fell upon the Amami mansion, Shuichi found himself speechless.

The Amamis were known for holding charity parties throughout the entire country, being the kind-hearted folks they were. Different to many other wealthy families who treated money as an obsession they couldn’t let go off, they made use of their funds for the comfort and happiness of others, and everyone spoke well of them. It was said the heir, a young man in his early twenties, Amami Rantarou, was the only son born from the marriage of the current head of the family and his beloved wife, the rest of their children being younger girls. It was also said he was quite the adventurer, always out of the country exploring dangerous areas and whatnot.

A maid came before the detective, possibly to his aid and to guide him into the mansion. She was beautiful lady, Shuichi thought, seemingly older than the detective not by much. She had introduced herself as Toujou Kirumi as she opened the door to mansion’s main entrance, remarking how she had been working for the Amamis for the longest time now. 

If the outside of the enormous mansion left him speechless, then the inside took his breath away immediately. Before him was a staircase that divided in paths to the left and to the right, a gigantic chandelier shining light through the room right above his head, and doors everywhere he could find. There were flowers in some elegant pots by the staircase, they appeared to be taken care of every day. Standing in front of the same was a man around Shuichi’s age, slightly taller, too. He turned around when the maid called out to him by young master, so Shuichi assumed this was the so talked about heir.

"Oh, Toujou-san, thank you for bringing him to me,” He gave a gentle smile to Toujou as a sign of having done. The maid excused herself to her duties, reminding her master that if he needed anything at all, he only needed to call. To say the least, Shuichi had to admit the environment left him feeling a bit intimidated and out of place. It was the first time he had ever come to house of someone so important to society, it was normal to feel like that. “Welcome to the Amami household,” Amami rose his hand for a handshake. “I’m Amami Rantarou.”

“A-Ah,” Shuichi muttered as he took the heir’s hand in his. “I-I’m Saihara Shuichi, apprentice detective... Pleased to meet you, Amami-san.”

“Same to you,” the smile on Amami’s face never left his expression. There was a calming and comforting aura to him, which made the traces of anxiety present in Shuichi cool down. He appeared to be an easy person to talk to, which helped all the best. Now closer to him, standing face to face, Shuichi noticed the shade of green present in the other’s hair, his eyes of the same colour, and the amount of piercings his ears beared. He wore a fairly casual outfit, a simple hooded jacket under a denim coat, and matching jeans. Being wealthy must have its perks, he guessed. “Thanks for coming as requested, too.”

“It’s alright,” Shuichi let a tiny smile come to him. “I’ve been after this thief for a couple of months now... So this is nothing new to me. I already have an idea of what he could be after, as well,” This caught Amami’s attention, nodding to encourage the detective to carry on with his logic. “Well... Do you have... some kind of family portrait around?”

“Oh, yeah, we do.” Amami pointed at the staircase in front of them, and Shuichi was beyond astonished by the work of art his eyes met. A large, horizontal painting was carefully displayed on the wall, carefully painted in oil. The family portrait had indeed who he assumed would be there, Amami and his twelve siblings, all smiling gracefully with no concerns regarding the world. It could be just a painting, but for some reason, there was something to their gentle expressions that words could not quite express it. So, these were the smiles the thief was after.

Shuichi explained the situation to Amami, pointing at the target of the thief’s plans. Amami replied he himself had already the vaguest idea it had to be the portrait out of all things; although it appeared to be a recent acquainted item, it was a family treasure, nonetheless, and one that mattered to the entire family. The detective promised to the heir to do his very best this time around for the painting to remain safe in their possession.

Amami explained the divisions of the mansion to Shuichi; there were several guest rooms besides the obvious ones for the members of the family (which rose the question of massive the mansion had to be, there should be rooms for all thirteen children of the Amami parents, plus one for themselves..? Shuichi chose to remain quiet, though), a vast field on the back of the mansion which was graced by flowers of all kinds, leading the way to forest surrounding the building, and a storage room in the basement (to which Amami made a comment on how that was where they kept all their gold and fortune, since there were many crooks who wished for the family’s wealth, and Shuichi froze all of sudden; should the heir be giving away such information like that, especially considering one of those possible thieves was to come here..? Amami laughed wholeheartedly and confessed it was simply a joke to lit up the mood).

Now, it was all a matter of time until the evening of the heist came.

(Shuichi’s anxiety kept him awake that night and the following one, nervousness and excitement mixed all together, that feeling of longing growing and growing deep inside him.)

-

Policemen surrounded the mansion in every corner he could get sight of, along with guards hired by the current Amami head himself.

Surely, it wasn’t a first in Shuichi’s still-short-lived career in the detective branch, but he had been faced with several cases like this one. And, taking in mind the criminal they were opposing to and the endless amount of times no one could put a stop to him, it was starting to become obvious why the need to have protection all over the local. Shuichi excused himself amongst the several policemen to make his way into the mansion, where guards stood throughout the main area of the building. The family portrait, said by the thief to be the target of the evening, still remained in the same spot by the staircase’s crossway.

(His heartbeat sped up faster, faster and _faster_ , the more he stood in the hall patiently waiting for the moment to arrive, the more his anxiety took over his legs and hands and entire body, causing him to slightly tremble.)

Although he had spent many hours researching for probable common strategies between heists by the thief, the detective never reached any concrete conclusion, other than the fact that the thief really enjoyed putting on a show every single time he acted and stole something. From sending the calling card to the execution of his break-in to the moment he flew away into the veil of stars of the night — it was all but a playground to the flying mystery in white.

He came into the possession of everything he desired so smoothly.

(Just like he stole Shuichi’s heart.)

_Click._

Everyone present in the entrance became alarmed shortly after the smoke filled the room, completely blocking their eyesight of any thing that could be happening. Some were confused as to why smoke had come out of nowhere, some were aware of the situation, but only one man quickly came to his senses: the detective Saihara Shuichi. He took notice of grenade right by his feet, painted in white with a smiley on it. It seemed the purpose of it was to be nothing more than a distraction, with no intentions to harm, which was also by record typical of the one behind this trick.

Having explored the mansion two days prior with Amami, Shuichi was familiar with the location of the windows, running as quickly as he could to reach out to the ones on the top of the staircase, right by the portrait. Careful not to trip, he successfully opened the two main windows and the smoke started dispelling. When visibility became clear once more, they all turned their eyes to the one thing that mattered, the one thing they were defending.

Nothing remained of the Amami family painting except for the detailed frame where it was sat upon.

The realisation brought a desperate look to everyone’s faces. They cursed out loud for their own incompetence and for failing their duties. “Forces! Search outside for the criminal! He must still be somewhere in the area!” A shout filled the room and the guards dismissed to the exterior of the mansion.

But — wait. No. That was what the thief was after. It had to be. For them to turn their backs and search through the perimeter of the manor, leaving the main entrance unguarded. For no one to remain in the room. Logically speaking, there wouldn’t have been enough time to do the deed. It was clearly impossible to take off a painting of such large dimensions in the few seconds the smoke remained in the air. The portrait hadn’t been stolen _—_ at least, not  _yet_ , it was still there, it had to be... Right?

“Nishishi...”

By the time Shuichi figured this, he turned around on his heels, realising he was already all alone in the chamber, with no one in sight except for the menace who haunted his dreams standing right in the center of the staircase.

“Hey there, Saihara-chan~!” The one with that childlike voice he (so dearly missed) recognized from anywhere spoke so casually. He never changed, did he? Always ready to make fun of the detective, the cunning personality behind that clown mask. “Did you miss me? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

(If Shuichi wasn’t aware of their respective roles in their story, he would have replied “yes, it has” or maybe dared to admit to the other that keeping him waiting for more than one month was more than torture enough to his heart.)

Ignoring the thief’s observation and getting straight to the point, keeping his own best mask of confidence up (focus, focus, _focus_ ), Shuichi started to reveal the secret behind the thief’s trick for tonight. “You concealed the painting with something. A large cloak, I imagine... Making it look like you had actually taken it away. But it’s still there,” His finger pointed to the presumingly fake hole in the Amami mansion’s wall. “You simply waited for everyone to leave the room so you could come here and steal it away.”

Shuichi only received silence in return for a few moments. Well... His theory had to be correct, surely... Nothing else could make sense in his mind, and, even though the thief always regularly changed tactics, it wasn’t as if Shuichi had been sleeping on everything he witnessed coming from the other.

“Excellent deduction as always, Saihara-chan!” The thief snickered at the detective’s bulletproof logic, tearing down the peace installed in the air surrounding them. Ah, the detective never ceased to amuse him. “Sure, maybe I did that! Maybe I didn’t! Who’s to say yes or no?” He made his way down the staircase just like a child would, jumping through every step. Shuichi’s brain began processing a plan to escape the claws of the thief and at the same time catch him, taking in consideration every possible means of the other using to run away. He made sure not to demonstrate signs of weakness (though, truth be told, it really was difficult to remain calm when his heart either accelerated at full speed or kept skipping beats) and eyed his surroundings attentively.

“Who are you planning on calling to help you, Saihara-chan? The doors and windows are all locked, you know... And you’re here all alone... Like a little lost sheep in a wolf’s lair.” A chill ran down the detective’s spine. That was... a dangerously sly remark. But, if everything in the room had been locked by the thief, it meant he could easily unlock them again and disappear into the night sky as he always did.

Curiously enough, the thief didn’t do anything. He just stood in front of the detective, humming lightly.

It was just like that night, back in the museum, in the room where nothing but the portrait and sculptures witnessed their shared “intimacy” — Shuichi admired the person behind the mask in the moments they had together in silence. Admired how much of a short figure he was. Admired his willpower and strength to get through these heists somehow. Once again, he was falling in his own pit of thoughts, in the desire to discover every little detail regarding the enigma in front of him.

Shuichi wondered what the thief wanted from him this time.

(Ah. 

He was going to play around with him again, wasn’t he?)

“Sorry for what I’m about to do,” A smirk and a sudden snap of his gloved fingers. Darkness took over the detective’s sight and in a flash, he heard a click and his hands were suddenly behind his back, restrained from doing any moves. A force rapidly pushed him to the ground, keeping hold of his hands, not allowing Shuichi to act against the strength pressured on him. “...or not! Nishishi~!”

His playful voice was no higher than a whisper against his ear, and his hand on Shuichi’s chin, titling his head upwards. The detective had no visibility whatsoever; no matter how much his eyes would try to focus, there were zero to none solutions to see through the dark, and could do nothing to protest against the one he was letting go once more. The thief’s sweet nothings felt like an addictive drug he was being forced to ingest, like poison circulating through his veins. “Come find me, my beloved detective. If you can, that is.”

(The thief was so close to him. His breath could be felt on his neck, so warm, so pleasing. Ah, had he removed his clown mask just to whisper at his ear..? How easy would it have been to turn around and place his dry lips on the thief’s soft pink ones? It was such a convenient situation, thinking about it; the two of them, together, alone in the midst of the darkness of one of the largest mansions of the entire country.

All of a sudden, that talk about forbidden romances girls generally spoke of sparked some sense into Shuichi.)

With that, the thief made his escape, leaving the detective on the cold floor of the mansion. By the time the lights came back, the guards had returned, only to find Shuichi handcuffed behind his back, his expression one of disappointment and disbelief all together. Surprisingly enough, though, what had caught everyone’s attention was the fact that the portrait, which had been said to be the target of the thief, remained in the spot it belonged in, bearing no damage in its delicate details of the smiling girls and boy.

Shuichi’s heart, however, felt like it had been snatched for the umpteenth time.

-

When his alarm rang, it was already half past nine in the morning.

Shuichi reached out to his phone to turn off the nonstop ringing, accidentally slamming his hand too harshly on his nightstand. It was all due to the sleepiness residing in him, still, he also had barely been able to bring himself to the realm of slumber. He unlocks his phone after turning the disturbing noise, slowly letting his eyes catch the light present in his room. “1 New Message — Momota Kaito” it read on the phone’s screen. He tapped the open button for the text box to come up.

_bro! how did last night go? let’s meet later on, same spot as always_

Just the simple mention of “last night” was enough to make Shuichi growl on his pillow and turn deeper into his bed sheets. He didn’t want to remember how humiliated he felt yet again after failing to catch the thief. He had been right there, right before him, so within reach and yet so far from reach, just like every time they face off.

(The touch of the gloved hand and the breath so close to his neck still lingered on his skin. Maybe he lowkey wished it had lasted longer than it did... He slammed his head on his pillow, cheeks burning.)

Whether he stayed in bed complaining and mumbling regarding his own mistakes, one thing was certain: there were classes in his university he had to attend to today and he couldn’t afford to miss them. He was never one to skip classes for no reason, but his mind screamed at him to spend the rest of the day sleeping soundly, snuggled on the warmth of this sheets. “Ugh...” Forcing himself to get up, Shuichi made his way to the bathroom to dress up, picking some clothes on his way (the typical dark royal azure blazer he adored so much, along with a simple shirt and some pants), and to take care of his usual morning predicament.

(Lately, he had woken up to the need of having to relieve himself every day. Which was, well, perfectly alright and normal, and he hurried himself up just fine.

Not like he dreamt of you know who or anything. Nope. Definitely not.)

He quickly grabbed his house keys, opening the front door to be greeted by the chilly autumn wind. Shuichi found it comforting, in a way; the location where his home was at was a peaceful one and nature had its turn around there, with a couple of trees here and there. He was currently living by himself (even when living with his parents he spent more time either alone or with his uncle, since they were always busy with their jobs, so in the end, it didn’t really bother him in the slightest). The view of birds flying away into the clear turquoise sky brought a sense of happiness and freedom to him.

Remembering how late it was getting, he locked his door up and made his way to the train station, checking what time his wristwatch told him (exactly a quarter to ten). Classes always came first than anything else, even his detective work, being the dedicated student he was. He figured he would have to go to his office sometime soon, whenever possible, to write a report on the events of the night prior, though, which sincerely did not appeal to him due to the post-heist depression.

The station was regularly crowded around seven or eight in the morning, being it with adults rushing to their work or young teens on their way to school, life responsibilities falling upon their shoulders. Seeing as Shuichi was catching his train to the university at almost ten in the morning, there weren’t as many people in the local, and the air could fill in his lungs easily. The train came exactly at five minutes to ten, and Shuichi made his way inside, getting a seat close by the entrance.

Chess-patterned headphones caught his attention a few seconds after sitting down, and Shuichi spotted with his eye the younger man who had been sticking around him in the past few weeks not so far from him. Ouma Kokichi seemed focused drawing something, holding his sketchbook up close to his chest, much like every time he encountered the other. Whenever Shuichi found Ouma in his own world, just as he was at the moment, he debated whether he should or not go and say hello, not wanting to disturb Ouma’s inspiration.

Was Ouma a lonely person? Shuichi had never seen him with anyone else before besides him. In fact, truth be told, Shuichi had never even seen him in the university campus before until, well, the day they happened to bump against each other in the library. There was just something about the gentleness of his crayons on his sketchbook that brought the detective to wonder about it.

Bearing that in mind, Shuichi built up the courage he needed and got up, walking towards Ouma and hoping he wouldn’t be bothering him. “G-Good morning, Ouma-kun.”

Ouma dropped his attention from his sketchbook, looking up to the one talking to him. “Morniiiing, Saihara-chan!” He flashed him a smile apparent of being genuine. In the midst of everything Ouma told him, it was difficult to tell what was real and what wasn’t, feelings included. But, something told him, in the vast universe within Ouma’s violet eyes filled with stardust and nebulas still hoping for someone to adventure themselves into them, he enjoyed Shuichi’s company.

Shuichi, being now closer to the other boy, engrossed himself in Ouma’s art. He appeared to be giving details to a sketch he had already doodled in his sketchbook; it was a perspective view of the night in a city full of life. There was the moon in it, round and huge in the background, along with what Shuichi guessed it would be the stars. It left him in a state of daze, and it reminded him of the evenings where he would have to face his rival and deal with his own heartbeat rushing as he ran, and ran, and ran after the criminal in white, his cape fluttering as he made his way to escape from the detective. In a way, it brought warmth to his heart, and a tiny smile to his expression.

“Hey sleepyhead, are you still dreaming?”

Ouma’s voiced snapped Shuichi out of his daydreaming, and realised it was probably creepy that he had gone quiet and started smiling for no reason. “S-Sorry... I was just looking at your sketchbook. You’re really talented, Ouma-kun.”

“Nishishi~ This is nothing!” Ouma replied proudly. “I’ve even done paintings for famous people and got my works in museums! I’ve got fans all over the world, you know.”

“R-Really? Do you?” Shuichi genuinely considered it for two seconds. 

“Nah, I’m kidding,” Ouma snickered. Shuichi sighed; well, it was his own fault for having fallen on such an obvious prank. In his own defense, it wasn’t like Ouma didn’t possess the skills to put the globe at his mercy with his artworks. “Man, Saihara-chan, you’re too easy to trick. You even make my lies feel waaay too boring.”

Shuichi only chuckled weakly at this, not finding any reason to apologise at being fooled by Ouma. Despite being a detective, he was still innocent in some ways. Even knowing more than half of the things (if not all of them) Ouma spoke of were lies, it felt like he was being pushed by his words. Ouma started going through the pages of his sketchbook, viewing them attentively. It was enough to let Shuichi take a couple of peeks at what Ouma drew; it seemed like he focused mainly on space themes (which left Shuichi wondering that maybe, if Ouma and Kaito met, they could be good friends) and, curiously enough, the circus (or so he had assumed from the doodles of several people in eccentric outfit concepts and a couple of masks).

“Saihara-chan?”

Shuichi turned up to look at Ouma again, and saw a mysterious spark in his eyes full of hidden stars. The drawing Ouma had paused at simply represented two silhouettes facing one another, with no details besides more doodles of the moon and the stars.

“Don’t you think the idea of a phantom thief and a detective having a secret romance would be really fun?”

Before he could react and give an answer, the train had arrived to the stop destined to both Ouma and Shuichi, the former immediately hopping off his seat and dashing off, and the latter standing dumbfounded as to why Ouma Kokichi would raise such a question.

-

“Harumaki... Please do my homework for me...”

“...What are you, five years old?”

A desperate Momota Kaito who kept glaring at the physics equations on his notebook as if they were his mortal enemy and a tired Harukawa Maki who, in return, had to deal with her boyfriend procrastinating about his studies found themselves in the regular meeting place, along with a Saihara Shuichi who appeared to be somewhere lost in his own thoughts. The smell of coffee beans filled the air surrounding them as per usual, which always gave them a sense of comfort amongst the many things in the coffee shop.

“If you don’t want to do your essays, why did you even pick astronomy to pursue?” Maki glanced at Kaito and his lack of motivation. At least, she was always on time with her homework.

“Space needs me, Harumaki! The Luminary of the Stars has an entire universe out there to discover! It’d be a waste to let go of it all!”

Instead of bothering any further with his assignments or replying further to Maki (to which she huffed and said “idiot”), Kaito caught on Shuichi’s daze and called him out from it. “Hey? Earth to Shuichi? Bro? You there?”

“Ah... Sorry, Momota-kun,” Shuichi waved his hand at both Kaito and Maki, giving them the sign he was indeed there with them. Physically, in the least. His mind was somewhere far, far away. 

“What’s with that face?” Kaito questioned, looking puzzled. 

“Are you thinking about him again?” As always, Maki was the most perceptive out of the three, even if Shuichi was meant to be the detective here. Her intimidating aura aside, she held such a gift to take care of others, which constantly led to her having to babysit both Kaito and Shuichi at all times.

“Oh right,” Kaito snapped his fingers, feeling suddenly enlightened on what could be burdening his best friend. “What happened last night? You never told us.”

The detective sighed and got himself comfortable in his seat, playing around with the mug of his typical cream coffee. He started explaining the situation from the start; how a calling card regarding a treasure in the Amami mansion was sent, and how it was the first sign of the thief in a month. How he met the heir of the Amami family (and added a comment on how he was around their ages too, and how he transmitted nothing but positive vibes). How, in the night of the act, the thief had once more escaped after being so close to Shuichi, leaving him all alone in the dark handcuffed. When he reached that part of the story, he noticed both Kaito and Maki’s expressions shifting into something Shuichi couldn’t even read.

“Bro...” Kaito put his hand on Shuichi’s shoulder, his expression torn between so many emotions. Ones of confusion, ones of astonishment. Oh boy. Maybe Shuichi said too much. “That’s... kinky as hell—”

If it wasn’t nearly like a constant at this point, Shuichi would have gotten worried for Kaito’s well-being after quite almost being punched into oblivion by his girlfriend. Not to be pointed out the fact that Shuichi’s cheeks had almost at the speed of light turned as red as a tomato when Kaito made that comment.

“A-Anyway... That’s all that happened.” 

“No wonder you’re depressed like that,” After the punch in the stomach received from Maki, Kaito brought himself to sit properly, coughing between words. Shuichi couldn’t help but think about the strength that was put into that punch to knock him like that... “But, you’re a man, Shuichi! You gotta face it!”

 _That’s what I’ve been doing for months effortlessly now,_  was what Shuichi wanted to answer, but instead chose to remain quiet, only nodding. To avoid getting any further absorbed in his thoughts, he picked his bag up from his side to search for his phone. Once he found it, he started messing with it, and clicked on the gallery. In it were a couple of photos of him, Kaito and Maki when all three of them decide to go out on an excursion together (Kaito had been driving his car then, music from the radio blasting out loud as they made their way outside of town into the forests close by), and photos of him and his classmate Kaede (she always went like “Saihara-kun, give me your phone!” and brought up the frontal camera, bringing herself close to Shuichi and flashing the kindest smile for the picture).

What was more surprising, was the random photo of him and Ouma he discovered in the camera folder. He had absolutely no recollection of taking a picture with him to begin with.

“Huh..?” He clicked to open the photo, questioned its existence. It was taken from an angle where only half of Ouma’s face could be seen in the bottom corners, and Shuichi was far in the background. Ah, it had been from that day in the library, where he had countless images of the thief to organize. He hadn’t even noticed Ouma had taken his phone away from him just to take a photo.

(Ouma had been acting so strangely that day, Shuichi recalled. Sure, his usually prankster self had still been there, showing off when he made fun of the detective, but there was something so off about him then. Something he could only try and guess what it could be. Something hidden amongst lies and starry eyes.

Something that left Shuichi thinking if Ouma wanted someone to reach out to him.)

Shuichi felt a bump on his sides, seeing Kaito and Maki had moved next to him to gaze at his phone.

“Who’s that?” Kaito was the first one to inquire regarding the boy with plum-coloured hair.

“His name is Ouma Kokichi,” Shuichi glanced at Kaito, and then back at his phone screen where the picture was still displayed. “I met him a couple of weeks ago by accident... We bumped up against each other in the library.”

“Ouma Kokichi...” Maki hummed at the mention of the name. “I think I heard about him before.” She wasn’t one to appreciate gossip at all, like most girls. Contrary to the rest, she always sat alone in her classes and could care less about the chitchatting in the room, except it was difficult when everyone was so horribly obnoxious. Really, the most sociable out of the three was Kaito, he spent most of his time surrounded by people when he wasn’t with his best friends.

“Oh, yeah! Heard he’s the guy in the art course with the best grades,” Kaito carried on from where Maki left. “Seems like he barely goes to classes and does his own thing. I never saw him myself.”

 _It sounds like Ouma alright_ , mused Shuichi to himself. It confirmed his own doubts concerning Ouma, too; if even Momota Kaito, social butterfly adored by many, wasn’t familiar with Ouma Kokichi except for his name and talent, then it had to mean he was alone most of the time (when he wasn’t with Shuichi, that was).

(It left Shuichi slightly upset, in all honesty. Ouma was unbearable at times, pranks going right and lies going left, but he was someone he cared about.

Wait. How long had it been since he met Ouma to care so much out of the sudden? His notion of time had gone to hell, apparently.)

Shuichi pressed the lock button of his phone, shoving it back into his bag. He let a sigh out loud and continued to eye his coffee thoughtfully, finally holding the mug to take a sip a few moments later. There wasn’t a word to describe how his feelings were joined in all together, it felt like nothing more than a gigantic emotional mess in the depths of his heart that he quite couldn’t figure out. The thief wouldn’t leave his mind in peace no matter what he did, he was constantly reminded of the chaos he got himself stuck in.

Maki and Kaito caught on the clearly visible melancholic atmosphere surrounding Shuichi, locking eyes as if to ask each other what they could do for their friend under these circumstances. The question met no answer, and both looked down. Maki’s gaze directed itself to the notebook still on the table.

“Momota... Your homework. Do it,” She slowly voiced, the tone of her speech raising into something close to as if she was prepared to kill him. “Now.”

Kaito squealed, backing a bit from the seat he was on. “Harumakiii!”

-

After departing ways with Kaito and Maki (Kaito had mentioned they still had something to do together, to which Maki blushed spontaneously as Kaito held her hand), Shuichi returned to the comfort of his humble residence. 

It wasn’t anything special, simple in its own fair regards. A bedroom, a living room, a kitchen and a bathroom. His room also had a tiny balcony he would sometimes go to, just to appreciate the view surrounding him. His little house provided everything Shuichi needed during his time living alone, a shelter to come back to.

He went straight into his room, putting down his bag on top of his bed. For some reason, fatigue was taking over his body, possibly due to the fact that he barely rested properly. If he could, he would point his finger at his past self (the one from earlier in the morning) and would have told him no, stay in bed, you’re stupid to even want to go out there. Complying hours later to his wishes, he fell on his back on the bed, gazing mindlessly at the roof. Maybe it was high time he got some decoration to put on the walls. Not like it really mattered, anyway.

His thoughts went again to (god,  _stop_  thinking about him for a second, Shuichi begged) the one who supposedly “stole his heart”. His hand trailed into his bag to gather up the photographs which served as evidence to unravel the thief’s identity. Or, at least, tried to, because if there was one thing the photos weren’t doing, it was helping him. 

Every nook and cranny had been inspected, but there had been no clues whatsoever. The thief was an absolute master of disguise, elusive till the bitter end. Shuichi’s fingers lightly traced up and down the figure in the photo. The thief was like a star in the universe who shone more than the rest. Almost like the sun, the detective realised, he had this warmth to him (he remembered the touch from the night his hands were on the thief’s hand and back, dancing under the stars). But, he mostly reminded him of the moon, mesmerizing and beautiful in every aspect, full of mysteries to solve.

...Mesmerizing? Beautiful? Well, he had to admit there was... a certain charm to the criminal in white. He couldn’t deny that, could he now? Maybe that was strived Shuichi to keep up with this game of theirs. The sensation of thrill the thief brought to his heart.

Maybe if this was what it felt to have a crush, then Shuichi could go along with it.

He brought the photo he held close to his face, then to his lips, closing his eyes. There wasn’t a moment in which the detective did not recreate that scene in the museum in his imagination. The lingering touch in his hands, the sweet honey taste on his lips, the feeling of falling, and falling, and falling he could not stop.

(Was it selfish of him to wish for his lips to meet the thief’s again?)

As he took the photos from his bag, they became scattered all over his bed, allowing his sweet time to see through all of them for the umpteenth time. He shuffled through the photos, switching around them. Even though they were only trying their best to do their job, the police had to get better people to take photography evidence, since some of these were either trembled or blurred.

The nightly scenario in photos brought his thoughts to Ouma’s doodles in his sketchbook, the ones he had peeked at earlier today. Artists always expressed their emotions through art, didn’t they? Could it mean Ouma was trying to convey something through the contents of his sketchbook? Could Shuichi figure out him through that alone, the reasons as to why he lies so often? Or maybe just learn more about the other?

(The sight of Ouma came to mind, a day in the sun was setting and they were alone, together. Ouma stood right next to him in a bench in the campus’ park, holding onto his sketchbook and drawing materials. Shuichi didn’t remember what had been their reason to be there, but, that was okay.

Despite the gorgeous shades of orange along with the falling leaves surrounding them, Ouma was still focused on the portrays of the night. 

“Night time is the best part of the day,” Ouma started. “The sun’s okay, but the moon’s the true beauty! She’s a true prankster, too. Still, I’m better than her! Nishishi~!”

His words sounded so genuine for once that Shuichi couldn’t stop a smile to be painted on his face.)

But... Why did Ouma draw the same thing over and over again? From what Shuichi discovered in the morning train ride, it was obvious it was his main focus, like he had already deducted. Was there any connection? A connection... to what exactly? A reason? Why was he even questioning the meaning beneath Ouma’s art, wasn’t he thinking about the thief five seconds ago?

He paused. The thief? Ouma? The moon? The stars...? Was he overthinking it? Was he losing his mind? If he went down that train of thought, it could simply mean Ouma admired the thief — no, he couldn’t, or else it would have sparked interest within him when he was staring at the photographs with Shuichi the other day in the library. Instead, he had a rather peculiar reaction, one Shuichi couldn’t have figured out at that moment, and left the detective alone in sad silence. His speculations rose as he tried associate the thief and Ouma together, trying to make sense out of this new formed theory.

_"Don’t you think the idea of a phantom thief and a detective having a secret romance would be really fun?"_

Oh. Ouma did say that, didn’t he. 

Again, why had he even said something like that?

Shuichi recalled Ouma was going through the coloured and doodled pages of his sketchbook, and, when he blunted that question out, he stopped at a page with two silhouettes. The usual motif had been present in the drawing, too. If you related the question to the doodle, it would make sense the question. But, why direct it at Shuichi and then run away? Ouma Kokichi was, to say the least, an unique individual, but one thing he had learnt as he spent the time the other, was that there tended to be a reason behind his words. Or so his detective deductions led him to such conclusion.

So... All things considered, the question that now stood up was: was Ouma trying to earn Shuichi’s attention by dropping these subtle hints? Hints that were right below his nose all this time but took him until now to put two and two together?

Was he really close to solving the mystery which had haunted him for months?

Could it be that...

“... _he_  was close by all along?”

A glimpse of glowing red standing on the floor of his little balcony caught his eye. Shuichi immediately jumped from his bed to check on what it could be, opening the window only to be met by a rose, and below it, a card. That one card with that one-of-a-kind design in it.

(If he didn’t pass out right there from how his heartbeat nearly shot up, it was most likely due to the strength he was doing to remain from yelling out loud.)

He quickly picked both the rose and the card, turning the latter around to read its message.

_I’ll be waiting in the kingdom where only fauna and flora rule._

His thoughts were rushing at the speed of light. Was this... a personal invitation? For him alone? There wouldn’t be any other incentive to send a calling card to Shuichi’s house, would there? “Fauna and flora... Kingdom... Hm...” 

It was a fairly obvious riddle, one he didn’t even require much thought over. There could only be one place that fit the description given in the outskirts of town. Grabbing his blazer and house keys, Shuichi set out to his destiny on his bicycle.

It was time to close the curtains on this act.

-

The King’s Field was a well-known garden around the area of Shuichi’s town. Even though at its prime beauty during the day, it was just as dazzling at night.

If his sources were correct, the garden took this name after a foreign king who came to this nation to protect the blooming seeds of his homeland, which were quite valuable. There were numerous types of flowers and trees there, some Shuichi could name, some he couldn’t. Biology was the last of subjects that actually interested him, in fact, but flowers were always something that amused everyone. The moon shone its light upon the wide lake, the water as peaceful as it could be.

He chained his bike to a light pole nearby the garden’s gate entrance and adventured himself into it. As far as he was aware, this garden had an extensive area, so his target could be anywhere, so if he searched every corner he would still be there by dawn. Maybe the thief was already aware of the detective’s presence? 

He quietly said to no one in particular. “You always do as you please, don’t you?”

A snicker came out from somewhere amongst the trees behind him, then the expected figure walked out of his hiding spot. Ah. So that was where he was. 

“Why, I made sure we were left alone, my beloved detective! Aren’t you glad for that? I’m surprised you didn’t dare to bring your cop friends with you...” He sang in a childlike tone. ”Not like it would matter, I would have taken care of them anyway!”

“So..." Shuichi started, eyeing the thief cautiously. “It’s just us two here?”

“Yup! Where would be the fun in our game being interrupted, right?”

Their game, huh? It was always their game, the dazzling detective chasing after the elusive thief, like cat and mouse. Despite telling himself he wouid remain focused, Shuichi could not bring his legs to move, apparently frozen in place as the thief walked towards him.

“Relax, relax, I’m not going to do anything. Or am I? Who can say! Do you have any idea, Saihara-chan~?” 

The least he could imagine was the thief pulling a trick like he had back in the Amami mansion, turning every light out suddenly. Was it possible to do that, considering the size of the garden? Probably, anything was possible for the one behind the mask, it seemed, so that was besides the point. Defeated with no answer, Shuichi shook his head as a no.

“Aw, what a shame. Well, then...” 

The thief bowed before Shuichi, the latter’s expression turning into a mix of bewilderment and embarrassment as the other’s hand was right before his reach. 

“Will you honour me with a dance, my beloved detective?”

...Huh? A dance? He scanned the mask and then the hand, trying to read through the thief’s motives, but it was fruitless. Subconsciously, his hand landed on the thief’s, and the other put a hand over his waist, bringing the detective closer to him. It was like a remake of their shared moment in the museum — except, this time, there wasn’t any music, just the sound of the leaves rustling due to the window. The thief guided him gentle through the steps of their intimate dance under the moonlight.

Ah. There it was again — that feeling of falling. Falling into a bottomless pit, falling into a spiral of emotions. Falling so quickly no one was fast enough to be able to catch him. Yet again, there were no witnesses to their soft steps through the grass of the garden full of fauna and flora.

“You’re being too quiet, Saihara-chan. Is there something in that little brain of yours?” The thief stared upwards at the detective, the mask so close to his face.

(The fact that he was so ridiculously short and still managed to lead Shuichi in their dance was so endearing to him.)

"It’s just...” He shyly looked away from the thief, feeling a bit intimidated by the mask. “Why... did you call me here?”

“Hm?” The thief cocked his head to the side. “To steal you away, silly. What else could it be?” This earned the detective a bright red blush gracing his features, and a snicker from the thief afterwards. He kept being twirled around to the tune of a melody that formed itself in his mind.

“I told you, didn’t I? You’re the most interesting person I ever met. Also,” The thief’s gloved finger poked the left side of Shuichi’s chest. “Your heart is already mine... Nishishi...”

The heat of his cheeks kept growing progressively worse and Shuichi only wondered how much of this he could handle. He was... rather enjoying the sensation of the hand that found itself intertwined together on his, not wanting to admit that ever, though. 

This ethereal moment could not last forever, and the detective was fully conscious he had to somehow beat the thief at his own game and turn the tables to his side. And the only way to do it was to focus the thief’s attention even more at him. One more twirl and Shuichi decided to take over the dance, his hand now on the thief’s waist, holding him down by one arm.

“The game’s over,” The detective inhaled before revealing the conclusion his investigation of just a few hours ago led him to, the moment every card would be shown on the table, the moment the mask of the phantom thief would be removed. “You have nowhere to hide now...

“...Ouma Kokichi.”

Only silence filled their surroundings as the name escaped his mouth. Of course, he wasn’t expecting him to surrender so easily, it wouldn’t be fit his character at all—

“You’re sooo dense. Did it take you this long? Really? I almost feel like crying.”

There wasn’t enough time for Shuichi to process the fact that the thief reached out to his own clown mask, grabbed it and threw it to the side of the field they found themselves in. Grey eyes locked on familiar violet eyes, and that plum-coloured hair fell to his fringe. 

“Congrats, Saihara-chan! You made this noble thief take his mask off!” The thief— no, Ouma laughed as Shuichi still held him by the arm. 

No words came out from the detective at this point. Maybe because it had indeed taken him that long to discover the thief was close to him all along, maybe because the sudden realisation he had from random thoughts led to the truth. He wasn’t sure anymore, but there was nothing to deny that Saihara Shuichi found himself in a vast garden under the night sky with Ouma Kokichi in his arms. He might have gotten rid of the clown mask that hid his face, but he did not get rid of the mask hiding his true feelings. The mask hiding the truth beneath the thief of the moonlight.

“What will you do now? Arrest and throw me into jail?” Ouma’s hand cupped Shuichi’s cheek, stroking it gently, despite the comment. By now, taking in consideration his skill, he could have released himself from Shuichi’s hold and disappeared into the midnight sky, like he always did — but, he chose to continue there, where Shuichi’s silhouette hid the moon.

(Rushing to link every thought he ever had of both the thief and Ouma as separated individuals was proving to be a bit complicated, even for his intellect — yet, it wasn’t so difficult, just merely confusing; Ouma’s personality remained the same whether he put on his regular student facade by daylight or his thief persona by moonlight. A real trickster to the core who did not allow anyone to see his world.

Maybe it was that attractive and mysterious aura which brought Shuichi to fall in love with Ouma, to begin with.)

With no hesitation in his actions, his desire to be selfish took control of him and allowed him to take another taste of his so long-awaited forbidden fruit after being deprived of it for so long. Ouma’s top hat landed on the grass next to his mask as Shuichi lifted him up from their position, now allowing Ouma to come even closer to his chest. The thief shifted his arms to hug the detective’s neck, ruffling his hair with his gloved hands and taking him in as much as he could. 

It was so comforting how smoothly they melted on each other’s lips; Ouma still tasted like the sweets he always brought in his bag and shared with Shuichi in their free times together. This time, their kiss lasted for much longer than their first one, and it was a sensation Shuichi wanted to hold on to and preserve to himself. Which led to the following solution—

“I’m keeping you with me.”

Apparently, that was the one answer Ouma had not been expecting in the slightest, as his shock was visible on his expression. However, he replied nothing, breathless from their passionate kiss, still.

“Weren’t you the one who suggested that idea of a phantom thief and a detective having a secret affair, after all?” Shuichi smirked lightly, his blush gracing his cheeks.

Ouma’s grin turned wider. “How awfully bold of you, Saihara-chan.”

With that, they stayed in each other’s embrace, their lips finding themselves again, creating a melody only the two of them could listen to. The wind calmed down, the sound of the leaves not fitting within the picture of the surrounding environment anymore. Only the moon and the stars (the ones Ouma so adored to draw along with what had been deducted as portrayals of them) smiled upon the union of the two.

This time around, maybe Shuichi was the one who stole Ouma’s heart.

-

Since then, news spoke of the lack of activity from the one who was known Dashing Master Thief of the Century once more. The crowd seemed disappointed at the thief’s sudden disappearance; everyone on the streets would be talking in regards to it to neighbors, friends, family, whoever else they could talk to. The name would most certainly go down in history, nonetheless, as he had left quite the impression on the citizens.

Two boys stood at the top of a hill close by to town, watching the sun setting and the moon rising, hues of orange and azure coming together and becoming violet.

“Why did you ever become a thief, actually?”

“To gain my beloved Saihara-chan’s attention, what else?”

“Ouma-kun, that’s a lie.”

“Nuh uh!” He shook his head. “...Or maybe it is. I was just tired of how boring life is.”

Shuichi giggled at Ouma’s reply, reaching out to the latter’s hand to intertwine his fingers in the other’s. Even if one mystery had been solved, there were many others ahead of the detective — and he would be more than pleased to face them head on, slowly finding a way into Ouma and his pranks.

That was the truth he arrived at, beneath the layers of lies.

The truth of Ouma Kokichi’s world which Saihara Shuichi had unraveled and seen with his own eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm actually. pretty sure. i rushed on the ending. but i was like: ok look, you've already gone on for too long, find a way to end this already you big idiot. and i'm so self conscious of my writing for ouma. actually i'm self conscious of my writing as a whole. welp.
> 
> if you've come this far to read this then hello! i love you. this is by far my longest work ever so any positive reviews would mean the world to me. thank you so much for reading and i truly hope you enjoyed it!


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